Chapter 11

ChapterEleven

EDEN

“How do I know you won’t kill me as soon as I agree to your fucked-up game?”

The vampire wannabe grips the back of my neck and hovers his body over mine as he brushes the rough pad of his thumb against my bottom lip. “You don’t, Doe. That’s the fun part.” His head dips, and he inhales as he glides the tip of his nose along my neck. “Death isn’t to be feared. We all have to die.”

“Sure, but most of us don’t kick the bucket before the age of thirty.”

He chuckles, wrapping his arm around my waist as he pulls me to him. “Little Doe, I died when I was eight. Just because we’re physically here doesn’t mean we’re living.”

I place my hands flat against his hard chest and push back, trying to create some space to clear my mind. He steps back. But the peace is silenced instantly as the roar of the chainsaw assaults my ears.

Turning, I see the insane man from earlier, and I’m brought back to the realm of reality. Whatever The Beasts are, they’re insane, and I’m certifiable to be standing still instead of running out of this church to save my life.

“Looks like you’ve met my brother,” the masked man with the chainsaw says. He revs it before shutting it down, holding the object by his side.

“I haven’t met anyone,” I say, my eyes moving from one beast to the other. “I got lost in the woods and thought I’d found a church, not three mad men who would accost me.”

It’s ironic that I revert to thinking I can appeal to the religious sentimentality of men. Asking a man of God for help is a mirage in the desert when you’re dying of thirst. The men who kneel at the altar of God and sing joyous hymns about his bountiful glory are the same men that devour your carcass for their coffers until all that’s left of you is withering skin and broken bones.

“How rude of us,” the vampire says, flashing a devilish smile that highlights his too-sharp incisors. “My name is Asmodeus.” He points to the chainsaw dude. “That’s Abaddon, and the one you saw first after waking is Iblis.”

“Your mother didn’t teach you manners, huh?”

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say because Asmodeus holds my neck with force and rushes across the floor, slamming me into the wall. He grabs my tit in his other large, tattooed hand and twists painfully. “I was up for making a deal, Doe, but I think I should strip you bare and fuck that cunt hole of a mouth until you’re rendered speechless.”

Logically I knew this would be rape. He’s not concerned about my well-being, but my body is turned the fuck on. I’m pretty sure my vag could turn the Sahara into the rainforest right now. I hate myself for enjoying how this man’s calloused hands roam my body. The sad reality is that my stupid pussy is about to beg for more.

A loud clang on the floor. My eyes meet the other psycho. Abaddon drops the chainsaw on the floor and rips his pants off his body like they’re on fire.

Asmodeus turns to him. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Abaddon glares back from the same blue eyes. They have matching bright blue eyes, so vibrant that they pierce you even in the darkness. Eyes that would be beautiful in a different setting.

Abaddon pulls out his cock, and my mouth waters shamefully. It’s a work of art. The head is long and thick, perfectly shaped with a bead of pre-cum glistening in the moonlight. “Getting ready to fuck.”

“Put your dick away, you idiot. We aren’t gonna fuck.”

“We aren’t?” Abaddon and I ask simultaneously.

Asmodeus turns his head to the side, “I get him being disappointed,” he says, pointing to Abaddon, “but I’m shocked at you, Little Doe.”

“I’m not disappointed,” I lie. “I’m relieved.”

“I joke about fucking dead shit, but I don’t like cold, stiff bodies. I want to fuck her, Mo.”

My heart speeds up at Abaddon’s statement. I’m convinced this man would fuck my cold, dead body just because he could.

“I’ll take your deal,” I blurt. I unbutton my pants and pull down the zipper. Sliding my hand into my underwear, I present him with a small piece of paper. I’m grateful they didn’t bother doing a cavity search when they knocked me out. “But I want assurances I get my information.”

Asmodeus leans in and closes his eyes as he inhales the paper in my hand. “Fuck, don’t you smell good enough to eat?”

My body heats. I’m probably blushing so hard that I’m redder than a tomato. “Do we have a deal or not?”

“I already set the terms, Doe.”

My mouth thins. “Take the paper, Asmodeus.”

“What deal?” Abaddon asks like a petulant child being kept out of a secret.

“We fuck her, and in return, we give her the info she came for,” Asmodeus responds.

My heart pounds in my chest as I watch his long thick fingers open the scrap of paper. Asmodeus’ head rises slowly, and suddenly, I can’t breathe. He says nothing; he just examines me with those piercing blue eyes as if waiting for me to explain myself. I choke on fear and the taste of regret, wondering if that paper was enough to change the entire trajectory of our exchange.

Relief floods me when Abaddon’s voice breaks the silence. “What does it say?”

“Looks like this little doe is on a fact-finding mission for the Cinders.”

“The Cinders?” a third voice questions.

We all turn to the door and stare at Iblis, leaning against the frame, his fingers mindlessly rubbing a rosary.

Asmodeus approaches me and runs the back of his index finger along my cheek. “Apparently, we have something of sentimental value to them, and this pretty little doe was sent to retrieve it.” He bends, keeping his voice low enough for only me to hear. “This will cost you more than a game of cat and mouse.”

The heady scent of rust and something woodsy and all man consumes my senses, making them foggy with lust. A part of me wants to fight and tell him to go fuck himself, to run and find another way to get the information I’ve been searching for. But another part pulls me to him, desperate to be closer, even for a moment. “What’s the price?”

He sneers as his warm hand moves to the back of my head, and the heat of his fingers pressing into my flesh causes me to shiver. “I’m going to need a taste of the merchandise before I deem it an investment worth making.”

I’m unsure what he has in mind. Is he going to bite me? Cut my wrist with a knife and slowly fill a glass with my blood?

My question doesn’t permeate for long as Asmodeus grips my hair and tugs painfully. My reflection bounces back at me as I stare into the blood-filled baptismal pool. My brain wanders off to other places, trying to calculate how many bodies died to fill the tub. Drops of blood fall gently on my face, a reminder of the depravity of the men around me and my fate if they so choose.

A sharp pain springs at my roots as my head is yanked back, and I’m face to face with an enormous cock.

“What are you waiting for, my little doe? Open up.”